


What to expect when the unexpected happens

by SweetPollyOliver



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/F, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Slow Burn, Transporter Malfunction, Unplanned Pregnancy, transporter accident pregnancy, vague and implausible relationship to actual biology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 13:36:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7686619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetPollyOliver/pseuds/SweetPollyOliver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are plenty of fan theories that fly around about why Janice Rand left the Enterprise midway through the first season of TOS, a favourite being that she was pregnant with Kirk's baby. Well what if she was pregnant? And what if, instead of Kirk, Christine Chapel was the other parent?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> warnings: allusion to rape, mention of canon sexual assault, the story is somewhat cisnormative in that involves two cis women being the genetic parents of the same child
> 
> A thousand apologies to empresshoshisato for being such a flake and not having this fic finished in its entirety by either the deadline or the extended deadline for the big bang and thank you for suggesting posting the first chapter so that it could be added to the master list.

It hadn't seemed like much at the time; just a slight technical hiccough while they were all beaming in after the end of the mission. 

She hadn't perceived it as anything more than a slight delay in materialising on the transporter pad and she probably wouldn't have even noticed that it if the transporter tech hadn't said anything when they arrived. 

It certainly wasn't the first thing Janice Rand thought of when she was getting this singularly unexpected news three months later.

“I'm what?” she said, her voice rising to a near shout at the last syllable. She looked over to the second empty bed in sickbay anxiously and then back at Christine Chapel, her voice lowering again to a whisper. “That's not possible. I haven't been... y'know in some time. Not the kind that makes babies, anyway.”

Chapel frowned. “I see,” she said, running the tricorder over Janice's abdomen again. The same result. False positives of this sort were unheard of. And if Rand hadn't been having intercourse _that she could remember_ then the alternatives that jumped into Christine's head were quite sinister.

“Is it...” she hesitated before continuing. It was not easy to put delicately. “Do you think it's at all possible that someone could have- I don't suppose you might have lost any time around when the conception took place?” 

Rand's face went blank. Chapel couldn't know it, but she had unwillingly flashed back to the 'intruder' pressing her into the ground and insisting that she wanted him. The thought that someone else had done the same thing and _succeeded_ and she couldn't remember it was... it was too much to even consider at first. 

After a moment she pushed the part of herself that wanted to curl up and cry into the back of her mind and let herself fall apart there while some other part of herself take over. 

Mr. Spock would quite approve, she thought, unwontedly calm over the juddering beat of her poor human heart, which had not quite gotten with the programme yet.

“No.” she finally replied firmly. “I keep a detailed personal log and a log as the captain's yeoman. If I was missing time then it would be obvious from either of them.” 

“I see,” said Chapel. “Well, to be honest, I think this one is above my pay grade, Yeoman. I'm going to have to get Dr. McCoy involved. While I am qualified to give you any kind of treatment you need for your... condition, I think that since you don't know what's caused it and the obvious has been ruled out then this one needs to come before the ship's CMO if only for protocol's sake.”

“Right,” Rand looked resigned. “I guess that makes sense.” 

*

When they finally did piece together what had happened Rand sat there in stunned silence.

“And people think I'm crazy for not liking the idea of having my atoms scrambled across the galaxy,” McCoy said. “Personally I felt quite vindicated after what happened with that poor dog and Jim but-” he pulled himself up straighter and went back into physician mode. “Janice, I'm so sorry that this of all random, improbable things had to happen to you. The good news, I suppose, is that from what we can tell, this _is_ a normal human pregnancy, for all that it was anything but a normal human conception. Whatever you need us to do for you now is exactly the same as if you had come to us with no mystery and a straightforward story of how you got in the family way.”

“But the transporter shouldn't do that,” Janice said, not quite able to get past that. “Many, many things had to happen for this to even be viable. You said it was a skin cell. A... a skin cell. That shouldn't be able to get me pregnant. Should the away teams start wearing contraceptive hair nets? Is dandruff on the shoulders as unprofessional as semen on the trousers? No, no it isn't. Because skin cells do not fuse with eggs and they do not cause pregnancy.” 

She was becoming a little hysterical at this stage. Although not, Bones thought, without very good cause. 

“Not typically, no,” he agreed. “But as it happens, this is not without precedent. People have been using skin cells to help infertile couples and couples with two women- or rather, that is to say, two people assigned female at birth, because there- well, never mind, the point is that it has been possible to create a zygote using an unfertilised egg and a skin cell since the early 21st century. But, you're quite right, it shouldn't happen by accident like this. The damn transporter had to do quite a lot to that poor beleaguered skin cell for something like this to be remotely possible. But as far as we can tell from our equipment the foetus is developing as close textbook typical as you can get—there's nothing I can detect that would make this a high risk pregnancy.”

Janice Rand's ten thousand yard stare looked straight past him.

“Janice,” he said more softly, “Maybe let Christine take you back to your quarters. This has been a lot to take in.”

“I only came in for heartburn,” she said with a half smile, finally seeming to come back to them a little. 

“You don't have to decide anything today,” Chapel said. “But we can help you with whatever it is you want to do going forward.” 

“Thank you,” Rand replied and ducked her head. 

Bones fought the urge to chuck her under the chin and call her a good girl. 

A starship was hardly the most ideal circumstances to get pregnant for the first time anyway and to be knocked up by the transporter and a flake of goddamn dandruff was really beyond the pale. All she'd done was ovulate, poor kid. 

Chapel linked arms with her and they walked slowly out of sickbay. 

*

“I'm still not sure I believe all this,” Rand said, “I'm going to wake up any minute now and laugh and laugh at the dream I had. I dream of getting pregnant a lot, you know.”

“It's not unusual,” said Chapel. “Will you tell me about your dream when you wake up?”

“Sure,” Rand agreed. “It's not the best one I've ever had, though. I had one about being pregnant with tiger cubs once. It was part of an experimental breeding programme to bring back the Siberian Tiger and I'd volunteered. Of course once I'd had them I didn't want to give them up to live in some sanctuary, so they followed me around when I was on duty and everyone loved them. This is quite pedestrian compared to that.” 

“Well it's hard to compete with tiger cubs,” Chapel said. They slowed to a halt outside Rand's room.

“Well this is me,” Rand said, unlinking her arm from Chapel's. She stood outside her door for a second twisting the hem of her uniform between her hands and looking at the floor. “I don't know what to do, Christine,” her voice was thick and tears shone in her eyes. “I don't know what to do.” 

Chapel opened her arms and Rand threw herself into them sobbing. 

“I know it's my choice and I'm glad that it is,” she said. “But I never thought I'd be in this situation. I don't want to have to choose.” 

She was 12 weeks pregnant with what seemed to be a very healthy foetus and she was past the point where the majority of miscarriages happened. Very soon she would have to decide if she wanted to continue this pregnancy to term or not. And if she kept the baby she would have to decide if she wanted to keep it or to give it up for adoption. And then if she kept it she would have to decide if she'd leave the 'fleet, take a ground posting, or let relatives raise it while she finished her tour on the Enterprise. 

Chapel didn't envy her her decisions in the slightest. She didn't know what else to say that she hadn't already said to her so she just held her tighter. 

“Christine,” Rand suddenly looked up at her. “The skin cell... whose was it? Could you tell that?” 

There had been five people on the away mission other than Rand: Captain Kirk, Mr. Spock, Dr. McCoy, Crewman Varadkoff, and Chapel herself. 

Until now she hadn't even thought about it.

“We didn't check,” she said. “Does it make a difference though? You're under no obligation to tell them and give them the chance to weigh in. Even if you had honest to god slept with any of them and gotten pregnant it still would be your decision.” 

“I know, but...” Rand looked down. “How they felt... it might affect my decision.” Chapel opened her mouth to speak and Rand cut across her. “I mean- if they wanted to help me. Really be a father to my child and support us. That'd make a difference. How couldn't it? Bringing up a kid by yourself and bringing up a kid _with_ somebody are light years apart. I'm not saying that if I really, truly decide I can't do this and I want to terminate and, and Captain Kirk or whoever decides he wants the baby that that'll mean I'll keep it for his sake and spend the next six months barefoot and pregnant in the galley for him. I just want to know more about what my situation would be if I did keep the baby.”

“I see,” said Chapel and looked down to where Rand had clasped her hands. “Yes, that does make sense. Janice...” she looked up. “I can't make your decisions for you. I can't give you any advice, not really, not good advice anyway. I've never been in your position. But I'm your nurse and I will do everything in my power to help you.”

“Thank you,” said Rand quietly and rubbed at her eyes with the palms of her hands. “It does mean a lot, you know. You being so nice to me—you and Dr. McCoy have, both. It makes me feel less alone in this.” 

“We can run a DNA test in the morning.” Chapel squeezed her hands. “And I can help you tell whoever owned that inordinately virile skin cell what's happened if you like. You're not alone, Janice.” 

They hugged again and Chapel kissed her cheek before she turned to go into her quarters. It edged a little past the strictest dictates of professionalism, but they were friends first before they were patient and nurse and, besides, she had the feeling Rand needed warmth right then as much as she needed reassurance from her medical team. 

*

The next day brought another surprise. 

“Well that solves that problem,” Dr. McCoy said. “No need to bring anyone else into this circle for now.”

“I... I just assumed-” Rand didn't finish. She'd assumed it would be one of the men. They all had, really, even though there hadn't been any reason to suppose it _couldn't_ have been Chapel. There had always been as good a chance that the skin cell had been hers as anyone's. 

The only person who'd truly been ruled out had been Rand herself, because two parents' DNA had been detected and, besides, the chances of a pregnancy where she had been the only parent being viable at this stage and with a foetus as healthy as this one was were unlikely to say the least.

Chapel couldn't speak. Intellectually she had known that this could have been the result of the test, but she hadn't prepared herself in the slightest. She had never expected this to happen. To be honest, she'd thought that Captain Kirk would be the father of Rand's baby. It seemed narratively satisfying somehow. The Captain and his beautiful yeoman and baby makes three. 

But not this. She was jolted out of her thoughts when Rand's hand gripped hers.

“Christine, I don't expect anything from you,” she said. “You don't have- you're not responsible.”

Which would be easier to hear if Rand hadn't cried on her shoulder last night and admitted that more than anything she needed help and support in this. That she might keep the baby if she had help. She probably wanted to keep the baby if only she thought she could manage. Oh god.

“You're not responsible,” Rand repeated firmly.

“I think....” Chapel turned to Dr. McCoy, “I think we might need to bring another person into the circle after all,” she said. “You might need to get another nurse to help with this case. At least until I've processed this.” 

“Of course,” McCoy said softly and gripped her shoulder lightly. 

She turned back to Rand. 

“But that doesn't- I'm not- This doesn't mean I'm turning my back on you!” she said.

“Of course not!” Rand said and took her hand again. “Christine, I had to go home and cry when I found out. If someone had expected me to just carry on and do my job at the same time I'da socked them.” 

“But you're the one who's pregnant,” Chapel said. “And I should have thought that- Oh god, I'm so sorry.”

“Don't be sorry,” Rand replied. “It's not your fault, it's not _anyone's_ fault. You don't have to have anything to do with this if you don't want. And I wouldn't blame you if you didn't even want to be my nurse once you've had a chance to absorb all this.” 

She felt an enormous lump of icy guilt lodge in her ribcage. 

It wasn't rational. Rand was right, it _wasn't_ her fault. And if Rand wanted to terminate even while wanting to be a mother, because she didn't think she could be a parent on her own, then that wasn't her fault either if she decided not to be involved. 

They had made no commitment to each other, promised nothing, intended nothing. 

She just... she wasn't sure _what_ she wanted. She suddenly had a lot of empathy for the position Rand had been in the day before. Sure, it wasn't the same situation—no one was asking her to carry a baby—but what she decided and what Rand decided could potentially change her life forever. 

She found that she too wished that she didn't have to choose anything. 

*

They avoided each other for the next few days. It was easy enough to accomplish. Rand had been cleared for active duty by Dr. McCoy and he'd prescribed her some folic acid and let her go about her business, so she had no need to be in sick bay for the time being. 

Chapel avoided the mess hall and ate in McCoy's office, citing a heavy workload to her disbelieving CO.

“You have to talk to her eventually, Christine,” McCoy said from the doorway where he was leaning with one shoulder against the frame. “She's scared, you're scared, and you both have the power to change each other's lives forever one way or the other. You don't think you should talk about it? See what you both want?”

“I don't want to make her feel obliged to do anything,” said Chapel. “And she probably doesn't want to do the same to me either. We'll both have to think and-”

“And then what? Good God, if you never actually have a conversation how will you even know what you've both decided? Are you going to conduct this dialogue through carrier pigeons or something? This isn't something you can each come to a decision about alone. You _need_ the context of what you're both thinking to come to any kind of conclusion about anything!”

“Doctor, I appreciate the advice, but this isn't something I want to discuss any further,” she said a little more sharply than she'd intended. McCoy waved his arm dismissively and walked off grumbling something about stiff necked blondes. 

The frustrating thing was that she agreed with him however little she enjoyed being harangued about it. 

She couldn't just walk up to Rand and hand her a list of terms. They really needed to discuss this. She just wasn't sure how to start the conversation.

*

In the end she needn't have worried. Rand started the ball rolling for them. 

When she came back to her quarters after her shift, Rand was waiting outside the door. Her fingers were twisting around each other anxiously and her brow was creased with worry, but her mouth was set in a determined firm line.

“I'm sorry for intruding,” she said as Chapel drew nearer. “I wanted to give you space to think, and I still do, but I really want to make a decision soon and I don't know that I can without talking to you at all.”

“Come in,” Chapel said a lot more calmly than she felt and waved her in as she opened the door. She stepped out of her shoes as she crossed the threshold and kicked them off to the other side of the room. “Excuse the mess,” she said, waving a hand around to indicate the haphazard piles of padds and various knick knacks she'd bought on shore leave strewn around the place. Boy, were her quarters not childproof. Not that they'd be able to keep the baby here on the Enterprise. The baby, if it was ever born, would have to grow up planetside... she forcibly stopped her mind from racing. “I haven't had a day off in a while. I've been pulling extra shifts down in sickbay and I guess things just started to pile up.”

It was embarrassing having someone over without having had a chance to hide things in the closet and under a few strategically placed throws, but embarrassment wasn't really the biggest concern right now. She pushed yesterday's uniform off the one chair and gestured for Rand to sit down.

“Can I get you anything? Coffee?” she asked, gesturing awkwardly without making eye contact. 

“Maybe just a glass of water if that's all right,” Rand replied. 

Rand, mercifully, didn't say anything about caffeine consumption. Although, on the other hand, maybe given an opportunity to put her nurse hat on Chapel would have coped better with the imminent conversation. 

She brought the water over and drank her own cup of coffee greedily, still standing up.

“This whole situation is incredible,” Rand said. “I knew I should expect anything in the service, but somehow this never would never have occurred to me in my wildest dreams.”

“Unlike baby tigers,” Chapel said with a weak smile to break the ice. It worked. A broad smile crossed Rand's lips and she ducked her head.

“Yes. I suppose given what I dream about, maybe I should have taken this more in my stride.” 

“I don't think anyone would have,” Chapel said. “Well, maybe a Vulcan would have, but we mere humans tend to get ruffled by little things like this.” 

“At least I'm better suited for motherhood than Mr. Spock, on balance. So.” Rand looked back up at her.

“So,” Chapel replied. “What do we want? And what are we prepared to do? To give up?”

“Yes,” said Rand slowly. “That's the thing really. What we'd be giving up. Right now I'm not sure what would be best. Taking a ground assignment, maybe. I don't want to resign from the 'fleet if I do keep the baby, but I wouldn't want to be away from my child for so long they wouldn't know me when I got back at the end of the mission. And serving on a starship isn't exactly the safest career in the universe either. I don't want to bring some poor child into the universe who might be an orphan before their fifth birthday.”

Silence hung heavily between them. 

What would happen in that situation? Would Chapel resign her own commission to take over parental duties? It would hardly be ideal if she hadn't had any relationship with the child up 'til then. But was she even ready to become a parent? She didn't want her career to change tracks abruptly and she didn't want to ever make a child of hers feel guilty causing that disruption just by existing.

She thought about her child out there existing and not knowing her. Never meeting her except as one of her mother's old colleagues. Some kid out there with her eyes, or her nose, or her hands and no earthly idea who she was. But still...

“I don't want to leave the Enterprise,” Chapel said finally. 

It was painful to say it that bluntly, but above all else she didn't want to promise anything she wasn't prepared to follow through on. Nothing could be a bigger betrayal than promising now to be reliable and reneging later on. 

“But I would want to have- I would want to be a parent, not just a donor of genetic material. Once the mission is complete I could move to San Francisco to help you. Maybe finish the M.D. I put on hold before I went back into space. Have shared custody, if that'd be acceptable to you. I understand if it's not though. Having to cope by yourself for the baby's first few years would be a lot to ask. But I have family in the city who would help. My mom and dad are there, they'd be delighted to have a grandchild to dandle on their knees and I'm sure if I asked them to they'd help you however they could. My brother is in the Bay Area too... I don't know if he'd be as able to be there all the time, but he would be there sometimes. To be... family. If that would help.” 

Rand nodded. “This is a lot to think about,” she said. “I understand how you feel. And I don't want you to feel you have to uproot your life to follow me if I take a job in Starfleet Headquarters. But it would be hard for those first few years, even with your folks pitching in. And I'd rather not leave the Enterprise either, really.”

Silence descended again. They sat (or, well, sat and stood respectively) together in quiet contemplation of what the other had said. 

“I'm so sorry,” Chapel said again, “I feel like I'm being so unfair. No matter what we decide, you're the one who's going to be the most affected and I'm not exactly making things easy.”

“We really should have used protection,” Rand said with a wry smile. “I don't think you've said anything unreasonable, to be honest. We both know that we'll have to make sacrifices and compromises if this'll work, but I don't want to do anything with you unwillingly. By necessity I was always going to have to make the biggest change if we kept the baby, even if I did send her away while we finished out the mission, because I'm the one who has to choose if I want to carry a pregnancy to term.”

“And... do you?” Chapel asked. “Because that's hardly inconsequential as a consideration. Before we get completely wrapped up in what the childcare is like back at Starfleet HQ maybe this is something we should... figure out.” 

“I think...” Rand paused. “I think I might do, yes. I'm certainly not ready to rule it out. And while I hadn't planned on it _now_ , I've always wanted to be a mother. If we can make this work then I really want to.” 

Chapel nodded and ducked her head. She didn't join Starfleet, hell or even medicine, because she was afraid of making big decisions, but this was the biggest one she'd had to make in a long time.

“Christine, honey,” Rand said suddenly. “I feel awful taking the chair and leaving you to stand there. I know I'm the guest, but will you at least perch on the armrest next to me here?” 

Christine laughed and moved to rest her behind against the chair, trying not to take up too much of Rand's personal space. Which she needn't really have bothered, because Rand wound an arm around her waist and leaned against her. 

“I wouldn't want you to fall because you were trying to give me space,” Rand said, by way of explanation. 

“Well this is certainly very cozy,” Christine said. “It doesn't seem like such a terrifying conversation from down here.”

“No,” Rand said. “But I might be about to make it scary again. I want to keep the baby.”

Chapel said nothing for a moment and then put her own arms around Rand's shoulders and pressed another kiss that had nothing to do with professionalism against her forehead. 

“Okay then,” she said. “Let's start talking childcare.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short update. I haven't forgotten about this fic, I swear!

In the end they decided between them that Rand would stay on the Enterprise for as long as she was still fit for active duty and then when she was ready to take her leave she'd go back to Earth and have the baby. 

Chapel would take a couple of weeks' leave that she had saved up to go with her to help her get set up with her new place and introduce her to her family in San Francisco. Hopefully she wouldd be able to stay long enough to be there when their baby was born, but unfortunately these things weren't easy to timetable. 

They were neither of them ready to disclose Rand's ( _their_ , Chapel's mind interjected obstinately) situation to the captain unless and until it would interfere with her ability to perform her duty, but getting her year's leave set up and her transfer to Earth set up was going to take more time than less and it didn't make sense to leave it too long. 

Chapel agreed to tell him for both of them. 

“I'll grant you, Miss Chapel, that this was not what I expected when you told me that you had a matter that needed urgent attention,” Kirk said, looking a little stunned. “I'll have to watch my step around Doctor McCoy, his poker face has been getting better. I asked him if he thought Rand looked a little pale last week and he told me it was probably because we hadn't been seeing a lot of sun.” 

“I can assure you, sir, her condition in no way impacts-” Chapel began

“No, of course,” Kirk said. “And I wouldn't want him to betray confidentiality unless it was absolutely necessary to the safety of the ship. I'm just... a little surprised.”

“You're not the only one,” Chapel said wryly. “This was not something either one of us were what you might call prepared for.” 

“I can only imagine,” Kirk said. “How are _you_ holding up? Asking just as a friend, not as the captain—if that's okay. You can tell me to boil my head if it's none of my business.” 

“It's... a big adjustment,” Chapel said. “I certainly wasn't expecting to become a parent now. But I'm glad that Janice wants me to be one.” 

Kirk nodded. He looked oddly contemplative. 

“I have some experience with a similar situation. In my case, however, the young woman in question did _not_ want me to be a parent to her child.” Kirk paused for a long second before continuing.“I have... his picture. His name is David. But- well, anyway. I understand what you mean.”

“I'm sorry, sir,” Chapel said softly. She didn't know what else to say. 

“Well, anyway,” Kirk continued brusquely. “I'm sure that we'll be able to accommodate Yeoman Rand's needs without too much difficulty. My only concern is that the two of you will need to pick a time disembark before it'll take too long to get back to Earth and it might be hard to know where we'll be in the galaxy at that point in her pregnancy.”

“She wants to stay on as long as she can,” Chapel said. 

“I'm sure,” Kirk replied. “Well we'll try and play it by ear as much as we can. I'll have everything ready so that the transition will be as smooth as possible.”

“Thank you, sir,” Chapel said. 

*

And that duty disposed of, they went on with things as close to normally as was possible. 

They didn't tell anybody else about the pregnancy, but as time went on it became more and more obvious to anyone with eyes. 

By the time Rand requisitioned a new uniform from the quartermaster (“And for god's sake add an extra couple of inches to the hem while you're at it, I don't want to be flashing my new stretchmarks to the whole crew!”) to accommodate her growing bump, people were whispering openly about her secret affair with the captain and their love child. 

For all that Chapel had herself confidently fingered the captain's errant skin cell as the culprit when they hadn't known who the other half of the equation was, she was furious that other people thought that Rand's interpretation of her duties involved making love to the captain. 

She was also a little offended that the rumour mill had made nothing at all of her nightly visits to Rand's quarters, but she supposed that they, like she, little suspected that she would even have been able to have been the one to get her “in trouble.” Maybe they just thought the medical staff were being overly cautious.

“I don't mind,” Rand shrugged while Chapel dug her thumbs into the base of her foot. “Half the crew already thought that I did my job on my back with my legs in the air, so I knew this would be what people would think.” 

“It's none of their business!” Chapel said. 

“Ow! Try not to take your frustrations out on my feet,” Rand said. “And, besides, when has what is and isn't people's business had any relationship to what they whisper about?”

“Well whatever you say, I don't like it,” Chapel said. 

“I know, darling,” Rand dropped a hand onto the top of Chapel's head. “Ah, that's much better.” 

Chapel's cheeks heated a little. They were both very demonstrative people and they were, quite naturally, growing very close between all the time they were spending together—not to mention the not so small fact that they were having a baby together—but... lately there'd been something else too that she hadn't quite put a name to. 

She hadn't said anything to Rand. If it wasn't reciprocated and it became awkward for them to be around each other then Rand would have next to no one to confide in and support her. 

At least that's what Chapel was telling herself. It was easier to think that kindness rather than cowardice that was keeping her quiet. 

But she sure knew how to pick 'em. Between Mr. Spock, who would as soon cartwheel across the bridge in his underwear singing Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star as he would return her feelings and now... well. It was better just to buckle down and hope it went away on its own. It wasn't as if she was a stranger to keeping these kinds of feelings to herself, after all. 

“I couldn't do this without you, Christine. You've been so good to me,” said Rand, blithely innocent of Chapel's inner turmoil. 

And well. Yes. That settled that.


End file.
